Immanuel, Revisited

“O Come, O Come, Immanuel,” is one of my favorite Christmas carols. A musical child, I was first arrested by its haunting melody.  Later, its plaintive lyrics resonated with my teenage contemplations. As an adult, I’m even more captivated by these elements and also heartened by the final stanza’s call for Christ to return and right the world once and for all.

But as I consider what “Immanuel” – God with us  – has meant to me over the years, I’ve also come to realize Mary and Joseph’s experience of God’s presence was likely different from what we imagine.  

The gospel of Luke tells us that Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem to comply with a Roman census, where Mary gave birth to Jesus in a stable because the inns were full. While this chain of events fulfilled the prophecy that Jesus would be born in Bethlehem, there’s no prophecy stating Jesus had to be born in a stable. 

Mary got an angelic message announcing she would bear the Savior of the world, and Joseph got a dream reassuring him that Mary’s child was the Son of God, not the result of her infidelity. But neither of them got additional information on the specifics surrounding Jesus’ birth. Instead, as Mary’s time approached, they found themselves faced with a 90-mile trek teeming with wild animals and robbers, not to mention the possibility that Mary could give birth along the way. 

Furthermore, have you considered the social pressure they must have endured throughout Mary’s pregnancy? Unwed motherhood carried the death penalty in biblical times. Although Mary and Joseph could infer from their angelic messages that Mary’s life would be spared, her survival wouldn’t have protected them from severe stigma.

Giving birth in a stable after an arduous, 90-mile trek and nine months of false accusations (or worse), must have felt like rock bottom for Joseph and Mary, even if they’d been told their baby would be the savior of the world. It’s also interesting that as far as we know they never saw the “heavenly hosts” that appeared to the shepherds, or the star that guided the wise men. Nevertheless, I’m sure that visitors who joyfully acknowledged their baby’s identity were a welcome relief.

But it’s also relevant to note that the historical story of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus doesn’t end at the manger. The gospel of Matthew tells us that the wise men alerted King Herod to the fact that there was potentially a new “king of the Jews” on the scene, and he ruthlessly murdered all baby boys under 2 years old in Bethlehem.

But what did the massacre mean for Joseph and Mary? Although Matthew tells us an angel alerted Joseph ahead of time, and the family escaped to Egypt, have you imagined what their exile must have been like? They’d just endured the stigma of an unwed pregnancy and given birth in horrific conditions, only to receive unlooked-for encouragement through supernatural intervention. Just when things were starting to look brighter, Mary and Joseph found themselves fleeing to a foreign country – and not just any foreign country, but one with almost a thousand years of animosity toward their own. A place where no one spoke their language, let alone worshiped their God. Mentioning their son was going to be the Savior of the world was off the table.

My point in highlighting these aspects of the Christmas story is not to make things sound unduly negative, but to suggest that our concept of what “God with us” means could be broadened. Mary and Joseph had at least four direct supernatural encounters (the visit from the angel Gabriel and Joseph’s three dreams), and the incredible privilege of watching Jesus grow from infancy to adulthood. But these supernatural events occurred relatively close together, and we know little about the rest of their lives.

In my own life, although God has worked supernaturally twice, I still deal with physical limitations and relational stressors that have made recent months challenging. When we’re discouraged, it’s easy to focus on the high points – whether the ones we read about in Scripture, or see around us – and compare our assumptions of God’s presence in others’ lives with our experience of God’s presence in our own. The truth is God is always with us, whether we feel him there or not. 

Luke 2:19 tells us, “But Mary kept all these things in her heart, and she thought about them often.”

Most likely, Jesus looked and acted like a regular baby, at least initially. Raising her first child in a hostile foreign country couldn’t have been easy.  But Mary had seen God’s power displayed unmistakably, and she was committed to renewing her mind. 

Whatever this season holds for each of us, I pray we will make a practice of calling to mind what God has already done, both as revealed in Scripture as well as in our own lives and the lives of those we love.

O come, desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease
And be Thyself our King of peace

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel

Where the Pressure Lies: Reflections on 8 Years

Today marks the eighth anniversary of my accident. Comparing December 3rd, 2024, with December 3rd, 2023, I can honestly say that God has radically transformed my life. Today, I no longer have seizures or experience severe spiritual warfare. I recently got my driver’s license. I continue re-learning to play violin. Although I still face severe migraines and other neurological deficits, my quality of life looks drastically different from what I could have imagined 365 days ago. But these divine interventions also beg the question, What about the suffering and uncertainty we endured during those first seven years?

From a human perspective, it would have seemed more humane for God to heal my seizures immediately, or at least shortly after they started, rather than allowing us to agonize over possible causes and cures for so long. Not to mention the social isolation we experienced due to my severe light sensitivity. Since I’m not God, I can’t say with certainty why he chose to act the way he did, but I have a few guesses: 

  1. Exhausting our human medical options forced us to look to God alone for our “daily bread,” whether that took the form of healing, partial improvement, or just the grace to endure joyfully no matter our outward circumstances. 
  2. Our intense suffering increased our empathy for others’ hidden hurts. Seizures are invisible unless they’re happening, and brain injury deficits and stroke fatigue are even more subtle. They may not manifest until hours after I’ve been pushed past my limits. Depending on how far I’ve been stretched, I may have to spend a day or two recovering. These “invisible” challenges increased my awareness that others might also be experiencing secret pain, whether physical or emotional.
  3. Those years of suffering drove home that God is both sovereign and kind, no matter how he chose to work in our lives. While we knew he could end our suffering at any time, the most straightforward path seemed like a medical intervention. However, we also knew a couple of people with seizures who were unable to find a medical solution, and eventually decided this must be God’s plan for us as well. But no matter how our earthly lives unfolded, we were still certain that God was good, kind, and for us because he’d already provided eternal salvation through Jesus’ death on the cross. The Apostle Paul writes:  

“What shall we say about such wonderful things as these? If God is for us, who can ever be against us? Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won’t he also give us everything else?  Who dares accuse us whom God has chosen for his own? No one—for God himself has given us right standing with himself.” ~ Romans 8:31-33

The promise that God will give us “everything else” means something unique for every person’s story.  In our case, we assumed “everything else” meant spiritual blessings because we’d exhausted all our medical resources. But God was only asking us to wait. It was essential for us to run out of human options so there would be no shadow of a doubt about Who accomplished my healings.

So what does the promise God will give us “everything else” mean for those who’ve lost a loved one, or are facing unemployment, or have endured severe disabilities for decades? God’s thoughts and ways are infinitely higher than ours, and if he is allowing pain in our lives, it is because there is a loving purpose that our pain is somehow his perfect tool to accomplish. If God didn’t hesitate to crush his precious Son on our behalf, then there is no good thing he would withhold from us – if that thing is what we truly need. And if he does withhold it, then there is something about our desire that he sees but we cannot.

This is the hardest lesson that Ivan and I have had to learn over the years. If I’m being honest, I haven’t learned it yet. But I hope I learn it a little bit more with each trial God allows. This quote from Hudson Taylor, a 19th century missionary to China, continues to encourage me in moments of pain and weakness:

“It does not matter how great the pressure is. What really matters is where the pressure lies – whether it comes between you and God, or whether it presses it you nearer His heart.”

Thank you all so much for praying for us and walking with us for the past eight years! We’re so grateful for your love and support, and can’t wait to see what the next year will bring!

Worshiping While Waiting

I avoid hikes due to the hardware in my legs, but this is a throwback from a rare visit to the Redwoods – itself an answer to many prayers!

Happy November 1st, Blogging Family! Many of us are anticipating (and hopefully praying about) Election Day. The course our country charts this Tuesday will influence not just daily life, but also global events for at least the next four years.

But whether or not you consider yourself political, I’m confident we all have cherished personal prayer requests we carry to the Lord regularly. That was one of the main reasons we started this blog in 2017 – to ask for prayer during my initial recovery. 

My gratitude for your faithful prayers, as well as a question I received after my recent testimony video, is why I’d like to share a brief devotional on Matthew 15:21-28. The question was, “What if God hadn’t granted that prayer for deliverance? Would that have changed your outlook on what you were experiencing or how you addressed it?” 

The short answer is, “No.” We are commanded to keep praying and trusting what God has said about our trials and how to respond to them, whether or not he chooses to take visible action on a given day. But better than my short answer is this historical account from Matthew, which has encouraged me throughout years of waiting on the Lord, both for physical healing and spiritual growth. It continues to refresh me as I come into his presence each day, and I pray it will encourage you as well.

Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre and Sidon.  A Gentile woman who lived there came to him, pleading, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! For my daughter is possessed by a demon that torments her severely.’

But Jesus gave her no reply, not even a word. Then his disciples urged him to send her away. ‘Tell her to go away,’ they said. ‘She is bothering us with all her begging.’

Then Jesus said to the woman, ‘I was sent only to help God’s lost sheep—the people of Israel.’

 But she came and worshiped him, pleading again, ‘Lord, help me!’

Jesus responded, ‘It isn’t right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs.’

She replied, ‘That’s true, Lord, but even dogs are allowed to eat the scraps that fall beneath their masters’ table.’

‘Dear woman,’ Jesus said to her, ‘your faith is great. Your request is granted.’ And her daughter was instantly healed.

I could write extensively about this passage, but for today there are three points I’d like to highlight. 

  1. We discover what likely drew the Gentile woman to Jesus in Matt. 14:35-36. These verses tell us that Jesus was healing all the sick who were brought to him. Even those who merely touched the hem of his robe were healed! No rejections. No “too busy’s,” “too tired’s,”  or “come back later’s.” And these healings didn’t even require a direct touch, or Jesus’ full attention. Then, Jesus heads to Gentile country. Why would he go there if he weren’t planning to do something similar for the Gentiles? But when this lady shows up, she finds something totally different from everything she’s heard. Jesus not only won’t help her. He won’t even answer her. 
  2. We often get frustrated when we pray and God doesn’t respond immediately. But how would we react if Jesus were standing a few feet away from us and unmistakably ignoring us? Especially when we had proof he’d healed hundreds – if not thousands – of others in similar predicaments? Talk about reasons for a “faith crisis.” But the Gentile woman doesn’t get angry, or even impatient. She also doesn’t stop asking. Instead, she pauses to worship.
  3. There was nothing praiseworthy about what this lady was experiencing. Jesus’ behavior must have seemed like it contradicted everything she’d heard about him. And the disciples weren’t being very helpful either. So why was she worshiping? By the title she uses to address Jesus, it seems that she’d already believed he was the Messiah before asking for healing. Her decision to stop and praise expresses trust in what she knows is true about him, regardless of how he responds.

When we think carefully about Jesus’ final response, we realize that he wasn’t being callous or capricious. His apparent indifference actually served two good purposes. Not only did it briefly test the Gentile woman, but it also elicited a faith-filled response that stood in sharp contrast to the skeptical Jews who were constantly demanding more miracles as proof of his Messiah-ship.

For those of us who are waiting on the Lord to answer our own cherished requests, the lady’s courageous petition-worship-petition example also functions as both challenge and encouragement: Is our faith contingent on our circumstances? Can we worship while we wait?